Three Possibilities
by Laura Andrews
Summary: '...She wandered down the hall, clutching her ragged lion to her chest.' AU one shot. May be mildly disturbing, thus the rating. Second chapter is revised version!
1. Chapter 1

_Don't ask me where this came from, because I don't know …_

A child with golden hair wandered down the hall, clutching her ragged lion to her chest. Her eyes were large and blue, and had a faraway, sad look to them even when she smiled, as she often did while exploring.  
All these rooms were so big and confusing. She looked into one after another, ignoring the sounds of someone calling her, trying to find her.

There were lots of pretty books in this one, but they bored her after a while so she went on. The stairs were long and creaky. She couldn't hear voices anymore. She went up and up. There were too many rooms to look at all of them, so she chose the most interesting doors to open. Some of them were locked but it didn't bother her. She went on.

"Lucy! Lucy, where are you?"

There they were again. She opened a door and stepped into the room, closing it firmly behind her. It would take ages for them to find her now. She looked around and saw a large wardrobe at the end of the room. For a few minutes she amused herself by making faces in the looking-glass doors, and then she opened them. It was dark in the wardrobe; there must have been a hundred long fur coats hanging there. She stepped inside, but left the doors open. The coats smelled lovely and reminded her of something, something … something sad. She reached out and ran her fingers through the furs and didn't notice that she was crying. If she had noticed, she wouldn't have known why.

Where the back of the wardrobe should have been, she stopped. A shiver ran through her small body. But she was brave, and she stepped out into the enchanted wonderland of snow and pine and ice blue sky.

When she emerged back into the wardrobe she ran immediately to tell the others. They had to know. They would be so happy to find a wonderful world in the back of a wardrobe! When she told them, however, they didn't believe her. Lucy went to bed, clutching her toy lion and hoping against hope that in the end, they would find out she had been telling the truth.

Professor Kirke looked up as a soft knock came on his door.

"It's open!" he replied, pushing aside his papers.

The door swung outward and little Lucy peeped in.

"Can we come in?" she asked.

"Of course you may, my dear."

She stepped inside, one hand clutching that ratty old lion as she always did; her other hand was extended a bit as if holding someone's hand. She looked over her shoulder as she moved forward, as if waiting for another person to enter before she began talking. _Poor thing,_ mused the Professor.

"We've been to Narnia, all four of us!" she exclaimed.

The Professor's eyes filled with tears as he smiled at her. The poor, poor little dear. Her parents hadn't evacuated her and during one of the air raids, her house had been destroyed. She had seen her mother killed and had lain all night shivering in the ruins before she was found. The toy lion was the only thing she'd brought with her that hadn't been donated.

He pushed his chair back and held out his arms.

"Come here," he said. She climbed onto his lap and nestled into him eagerly. "Tell me all about it. Narnia, did you say? What a lovely name!"

 _Finis_


	2. Three Possibilities, Revised

_A/N: I wasn't completely happy with the first version of this, so I've rewritten it and I like it better now. Thanks for reading!_

 _Three Possibilities_

She wanders down the hall, a little, golden-headed girl clutching a ragged lion. Her blue eyes are large and seem to see faraway things, sad things that wrinkle her young forehead though her mouth is turned up in a smile. This house is so big, and there are so many rooms; it seems to go on forever. She likes it; the wind blows outside and makes her feel lonesome, as if everything is hers only, to explore, to keep.

She hears the vague sound of the others calling, but she ignores them. She climbs creaky stairs and goes down dim passageways. She looks into many of the rooms. Some of the doors are locked but it doesn't bother her. She goes on.

"Lucy! Lucy, where are you?"

There they are again. She steps into a room and closes the door behind her. It will take ages for them to find her now. She looks around. There is nothing in this room, no big books or suits of armor, no paintings or pretty things behind glass; just a big wardrobe. There is a looking glass in the door; she stands in front of it and makes faces, but this only amuses her for a minute. What she really wants is to see inside it. So she opens it.

It is full of coats, long fur coats that smell lovely. But the smell reminds her of something, something sad. She reaches out and touches them, and does not notice that she is crying; if she had noticed, she would not know why.

Leaving the door open, she moves further into the wardrobe; she brushes her fingers against all the coats as she goes along, until her hand touches something rough and cold; a shiver runs through her as she steps out, where the back of the wardrobe should be, into an enchanted world of snow and pine and ice blue sky.

 _IIIIII_

Professor Kirke looks up at the light knock on his door.

"Yes?"

He pushes his chair back; the door opens and Lucy pokes her head in.

"May we come in?"

"Of course, my dear."

She steps inside, one hand clutching her stuffed lion to her chest, the other held out as if holding on to someone. Her small face is lit up by a smile.

"We've been to Narnia!" she says. "Peter and Susan and Edmund all got in with me, just as you said we would!"

"Narnia?" He furrows his brow but smiles at her and holds out his arms; Lucy climbs into his lap and nestles eagerly against him.

He looks down at her golden hair and holds back a sigh of pity.

Her parents had not evacuated her and during an air raid, her home had been destroyed. Her mother was killed, and Lucy had lain shivering all night in the wreckage before she was found.

The poor child has nothing left of her own but that ragged toy, which she never lets go of.

"Narnia did you say? What a lovely name. Tell me all about it!"

 _Finis_


End file.
